


to live fast and die young

by flashandsubstance



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Autism, Autistic Wally West, Bullying, Depression, Food Issues, Friendship, Gen, Gratuitous Snooping, Heavy Angst, Hurt Wally West, Hurt/Comfort, Neglect, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Therapy, Unreliable Narrator, Wally West Whump, Wally West has ADHD, Wally West is Kid Flash, Wally West-centric, facts i just made up, kaldur is the best and i will not allow any debate on this point, look ma! a multi-chapter fic!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:44:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18456134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashandsubstance/pseuds/flashandsubstance
Summary: Black Canary laced her fingers calmly. “This may seem somewhat weighted for a first session, but I’d like to at least bring up the reason you are at therapy in the first place.” Wally stiffened. Shit. He was really hoping that she’d let him slide, just for their first session, but alas, Wally had terrible luck, as usual.





	1. make a wish when your childhood dies

**Author's Note:**

> all my wallys are adhd/autistic, which does not mean that this is compliant with my other wally content!! this is YJ!wally not JLU!wally. 
> 
> please keep in mind the tags. like, please do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title of this chapter comes from [ S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W by my chemical romance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BlcXYr-7qgk) because. i'm emo
> 
> here's [the link to the fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1xrJZ0r1vW0wfDJIET07Qg?si=_nTLuytuTTGwwPWJHyR8Pg)

Thunder rolled across the stormy sky, illuminating the meagerly lit lab, and within it, the young boy in the progress of rearranging the shelves of chemicals under the skylight. Every so often, he would glance back at the sheaf of notes on the desk next to him, full of detailed recordings and complicated equation.

Everything had to be perfect. One thing off, and the boy knew something could go terribly wrong, despite his precautions. But, to him, the risk was acceptable if he could achieve his goal.

He would be a hero.

He’d be loved.

The quiet clinking of the jars and bottles on the shelf was drowned out by the rain and the occasional roll of thunder above. The air felt almost supercharged, and Wally’s hair was standing on end. He couldn’t tell if this was the static in the air, or his own cold fear, which sat low in his chest. 

Double-checking his setup, Wally swallowed heavily. Would this work, or would he… y’know, bite it. 

It was pretty likely, he thought, that something would go wrong. There’d be an unknown variable, some little mistake, some unaccounted-for detail, and he’d die, or be horribly injured. He’d rather not live in pain, at the very least.

The tightness in his chest was almost unbearable, and there was an ache behind his eyes, tears threatening to spill over his cheeks. 

There wasn't any other way.

Not for him, a fucked up kid whose bullies weren't too off-the-mark when they called him names. The mentally ill kid, too smart for his own good. 

When he found out that his Uncle Barry was the Flash, Wally’s first instinct was to tell him. Let his uncle know that he didn't have to hide that part of himself from Wally.

But.

If he’d told Uncle Barry, he’d’ve tried to stop Wally. Make him give up his one chance at a good future, one that would make him happy.

Wally hadn’t even envisioned a future for himself until he’d learned. Once, in class, their teachers had asked them to fill out a worksheet with where they saw themselves in five, ten, twenty years. It was supposed to make them think more about their futures.

All Wally could think about, looking down at that paper, was that he couldn't imagine living that long. He couldn't write that, of course, not if he didn’t want a trip to the school counselor and a call to his parents. So, instead, Wally put down that he wanted to go to college and be a forensic scientist, like his uncle. Science was what his teachers wanted him to do after all. His grades were amazing, and the story itself had the perfect touch of family that they would probably think that it was sweet of him to want to follow his uncle so. 

Wally loved his uncle. Barry’s home had become a refuge to him, where he could just be himself. Uncle Barry never minded when Wally was loud, never minded when he made weird noises or flapped his hands, or talked for minutes on end about whatever he was interested in the most. He didn't mind Wally’s quiet days, when he felt bad and didn't want to talk or interact with anyone. He actually listened when Wally had something to say. His parents never did that.

Sure, his parents were busy people, with lots to do. His dad worked labor, and his mom had an office job. They always left early, which meant that Wally had to make breakfast and lunch for himself. (They served lunch at school, but Wally was picky, and a lot of times it so gross that it made him want to barf. A lot of foods made Wally want to barf. He was weird like that.) When his parents got home, they were always  _ so  _ tired, and they never had enough time for him. He always wanted to talk to them, to  _ be  _ with them, but they would brush him off, or if he was particularly obnoxious, yell at him to go away. 

They loved him, of course, but he was a tough kid to have, to deal with. 

Maybe, if he became like the Flash, they’d care about him. Maybe if he died he wouldn't be such a burden to them.

He doesn't even know why he complains so much. Other kids have it worse than he does. He’s just weird and lonely. It’s not like his parents hit him or anything, even if the older boys at school do. They tease, him, mostly. He doesn’t even know why they do. Maybe, he’s an easy target. Or maybe he just deserves it. Maybe if he fit in better, could act normal,  _ be  _ normal, not be such a little know-it-all who all the teachers love. 

Another thundercrack, closer, snapped Wally out of his reverie. Through the skylight above, he could see the rain pound against the window.

Standing under the skylight, rain crashing against the glass, Wally was almost terrified that the glass would break, cracks spreading like spiderwebs across it until it broke, shredding his skin with long shards of broken glass.

All of a sudden, there was a sound like a gunshot, and a bright flash of light, and more pain than Wally had ever felt in his life. He screamed, and then knew no more.


	2. don't just sit with folded hands and become blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team snoops.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title of this chapter is from [guiding light by mumford and sons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CaCkRnJ7hEM)!
> 
> here's [the link to the fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1xrJZ0r1vW0wfDJIET07Qg?si=_nTLuytuTTGwwPWJHyR8Pg)
> 
> i am not.... the best at writing scenes spread out over long periods of time that involve this many people. please bear with me!!

The morning began like usual for M’gann. Usually, Connor and Kaldur were the only other members of the team who stayed overnight, unless there had been a long or particularly grueling mission the day before. So, in the morning, M’gann would make breakfast as a way to practice her cooking skills. Today, M’gann made pancakes.

The pancakes were pretty good, she thought, and she put blueberries in them as well. Her cooking skills were definitely improving, and the distraction had helped her filter out the stress. Plus, Kaldur and Connor seemed to like it. Her judgement of human food as being ‘tasty’ was occasionally lacking. Now that she was thinking about it, neither Connor nor Kaldur had much experience on human food either, so it was really a gamble.

Hello Megan! had not been really all that instructive on the gustatory aspect of human life, so M’gann just had to cross her fingers and hope that she didn't mess it up too bad most of the time. 

As training drew near, M’gann, Kaldur, and Connor changed into their costumes, and moved to wait in the training room keeping up quiet conversation in anticipation for the day’s training to start. 

“Batman 01. Robin B01.” The Zeta Tube’s mechanical voice rung out through the area, announcing the arrival of the Dynamic Duo to the waiting teens. 

M’gann waved at Robin. “Hey Rob!” She called.

Robin looked up at her. His expression looked weird on his face– the usually cheerful bird looked _ lost _ , confused, but on hearing M’gann, is slipped away, as if it’d never been there in the first place. In its place, he gave her one of his usual smiles. 

“Hey M’gann! B’s going to be leading training today, since Black Canary can’t make it today.”  _ Strange.  _ Black Canary hadn’t ever missed a training session that she’d already scheduled, and M’gann knew that she had been scheduled for today. 

Despite Robin’s weirdness and Black Canary’s absence, M’gann was determined to have a good day, and make the most of training. So, she put it out of her mind. This was a problem for future-M’gann to think about.

 

Batman looked out at the quiet group. M’gann didn’t know exactly how to put it in words, but something was off, and it was unsettling.

“I’m going to teach you about tells– how to predict how an enemy will attack or react to your movements. I’ll divide you up into pairs, and each pair will take a turn sparring. Once the fight is over, you’ll review the fight and analyze the tells of each person, how they can minimize them, and how an opponent could use those tells to their advantage.” Everyone nodded, and Robin gave a thumbs up. 

“Will we be choosing our partners?” Said M’gann. She wanted to work with Connor.

Batman shook his head. “No. M’gann, you’ll be working with Artemis, and Connor will work with Kaldur’ahm. Robin will be fighting me.”

M’gann raised a hand awkwardly. “Um, Batman, will Wally be coming at all today?” Artemis nodded at her words.

“Yeah, where is Kid Mouth anyways? It’s too quiet without him.” Artemis flushed at Robin’s giggle. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Batman paused. The lines around his mouth tightened, and his silence subdued any joking from the other teens, and M’gann could both see their faces grow stony and feel them grow serious.

“Wally won’t be coming to training.” said Batman, after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

 

Training was a nice distraction from the anxiety, but everything seemed a little subdued. Wally’s absence was felt by everyone. His chattiness keps spirits high, even if it was usually off topic and distracting at times.  Even Robin was quiet, the usually chirpy bird reticent in the silence.

Besides that, even with Batman leading training, it was simply not productive. Everyone’s minds seemed to be elsewhere, and it showed. 

After training, the team gathered in the living room area. Usually, there would be some kind of conversation going, usually about training or school or something else altogether, but the conversation was pretty much always fun. 

There was no conversation of that nature.

Robin spoke first. “Something’s wrong.”

“I’ll say,” scoffed Connor. “Where was Black Canary? She always schedules her training sessions beforehand– and so does Batman- this was out of nowhere.” M’gann nodded. Batman had a routine, a process, one that he stuck with. Breaking that out of nowhere was out of character for the man, and was really easily noticed.

“Maybe they needed Black Canary for something, maybe a mission that her skills were needed for particularly,” volunteered M’gann. She couldn’t actually think of anything that would need her in particular– there were plenty of other heroes who could fight like her, and even though her power was pretty unique, M’gann was drawing a blank on specific situations that only a sonic scream could solve. Her explanation was pretty weak in retrospect.

“B was acting weird today as well. He left for the Watchtower way earlier than usual this morning, and returned just before I usually leave for training. Plus, he seemed stressed out to me today. More…” Robin searched for the right word. “...Neurotic than usual, and he was pretty cagey when I asked him what was up.”

“I don’t like it,” growled Superboy. 

“And where is Wally? Batman did not actually answer M’gann and Artemis when they asked,” murmured Kaldur, brows furrowed.

Artemis leaned forward. “Yeah. Wally always shows up for training, and the whole-” Her voice became raspier in an imitation of Batman. “'He won't be coming to training’ thing wasn’t ominous at all,” she said sarcastically, but M’gann could see the tension in her frame. 

“And–” Robin wrapped his arms around himself self-consciously before continuing. “Wally always texts me during class, like, without fail. But today? Complete radio silence. It was…” Robin trailed off. Outwards, his expression was blank, but M’gann could feel worry radiating off him. Robin was usually so confident, and it was a stark contrast against both how he looked outwardly and how he felt to M’gann.

“I hope Wally is not injured,” said Kaldur quietly. Everyone turned to look at him.

“What do you mean?” Asked Artemis.

It was a moment before Kaldur responded. “I wish it were not the case, but the most likely situation to me seems to be that he has been injured while working in Central City.”

Robin had a pensive look on his face. “But what’s with all the secrecy? Why won’t they tell us what’s going on?”

Kaldur looked troubled. “That I do not know. Whatever the reason, I don’t believe whatever has occurred is good.”

“You got that right,” scoffed Artemis. “Nothing about this is good. It’s ominous is what it is.”

“Look,” said Robin. “We can’t really do anything about whatever it is. We don’t even know what’s wrong. All we can do is keep an ear open.” 

“You mean snoop.”

“And snoop!” Robin grinned widely. 

 

And snoop Robin did. 

Immediately, he opened up his holographic computer and began typing at it furiously. The more he typed, the more his brows furrowed, staring at the screen as if it had done something to offend him.

“That’s odd,” he murmured, pausing his frenetic typing. “There’s nothing in B’s servers. No reports, no mysterious locked files, nothing! Whatever this is, B doesn’t want me to see it.”

“That is strange,” said Kaldur. “Have you checked the Justice League’s servers?”

Robin shook his head. “Not yet.” He fell silent as he started typing once more. The whole team was now crowded around his shoulders, and M’gann floated above them all so that there would be enough space for everyone to see. Besides, she had the best view floating anyways.

After a moment, his expression grew dour. Nothing explicitly damning on the files but…” He pulled up the security feeds. “Portions of the security feeds have been manually deleted, and cameras are completely turned off in parts of the hospital wing.” Robin swiped through the feeds, showing off to the team the several static feeds.

Connor sat back. “This is too many coincidences to be unrelated,” he said, and Kaldur placed a hand on his arm.

“We know, but there’s nothing we can do about it now. All we can do is speculate, and that will help absolutely no one.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the reason that the league/batman is being so utterly neurotic vis a vis info and security feeds n the like is 1. privacy and 2. robin is a known snoop.
> 
> i probably could have written way more but spring break is almost over and i wanted to post this before i ran out of all my time to write. later updates will not be this fast!


	3. but the lows are so extreme (that the good seems fucking cheap)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally deflects, denies, and represses!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title of this chapter comes from [a better son/daughter by rilo kiley](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B0sy7y54XAE) which is REALLY thematic for this fic. like, go listen to it.
> 
> here's [the link to the fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1xrJZ0r1vW0wfDJIET07Qg?si=_nTLuytuTTGwwPWJHyR8Pg)
> 
> i am the self-described monarch of stilted dialogue

Everything hurt.

That was the first thing that Wally noticed as he came to, blinking in the harsh fluorescent lights. His whole body felt like lead. 

Where was he? What–

Above him, he could see the pale metal of the ceiling. It looked cold.

He turned his head. Next to him, through the observation window, he could see Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris. Why did they look so–

Oh.

He lifted his arms, and stared dumbly at the clean white gauze wrapped tightly around his wrists, the cannula inserted just above the wrappings. 

He’d tried to kill himself. And he’d survived. 

This was– this was not ideal. He–

He was hyperventilating, his heart pounding like a drum. Blood was roaring in his ears, and it took all of Wally’s effort to slow his breathing, to be  _ normal. _

He had to be normal.

He wouldn't–

“Wally.” His head snapped around as Black Canary’s soft voice startled him out of his thoughts. It seemed as though she’d just come in, standing by the door, one hand pushing it gently closed. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“Hey BC, nice of you to visit me!” He twisted his face into a smile he hoped didn't look as fake as it felt, and attempted a jaunty wave with his non-cannula-ed hand. Black Canary frowned, furrowing her brows.

Black Canary pulled a chair up to the side of his bed, and crossed her legs.

“Do you know why you’re here, Wally?” He suddenly felt very small under her prying gaze. Looking away, he wrapped his arms around himself.

“Yeah, I- uh- I tried to kill myself,” he said softly, still trying to force a jovial lilt to his voice. Wally was not very successful, but it was the thought that counted.

“Wally, I’m going to ask you some questions, Is that alright?

“Sure, I guess.”  _ Shit. _ He was a  _ terrible _ liar, and that was what he had to do if he wanted to go home. 

“Can you describe what happened?” Wally curled in on himself further, staring down at the white sheets crumpled in his fists.

“Sure,” he said, and tried not hyperventilating. “I figured my metabolism would either heal me too quickly or burn out any medication too fast, so I went for both at the same time, and here I am.” Black Canary nodded.

“What lead up to the attempt?”

Wally just shrugged. He didn’t really know, exactly. Everything had just become too much, and it felt like he was being crushed, and all he wanted to do was disappear–

“We can come back to that, If you want.” Wally released a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding, and nodded gratefully. “Have you experienced thoughts of suicide or self harm before?”

After a moment, he nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly. He really didn't want to elaborate. Or think about it. At all.

“When did you first notice these thoughts?”

“I…” He thought about it for a moment. “I actually don’t know,” he said. That was the truth. Wally’s memory was pretty terrible, to be honest. It kind of felt to him as if he’d had that sort of thought as long as he could remember. 

“Have you ever acted on these thoughts before?”

“No,” he lied through his teeth.  _ I mean, once or twice, maybe. It’s not that big a deal.  _ She raised an eyebrow, as if she could see into his soul. Wally very nearly shuddered.

“How likely is it that you’ll act on them again?” 

“Unlikely,” he said. There was a pause, before Black Canary spoke again.

“Let’s go back to my earlier question. What lead up to the attempt? Why did you attempt?” This was fine. At least he was expecting it now.

“I was tired.” It was a cop-out of an answer, and Wally knew it, but he didn't have the energy in him to muster up anything better.

Sure, there were other, longer, better explanations. Wally could probably muster up so many explanations that he could write a book. He’d call it something like, ‘REASONS KID FLASH TRIED TO KILL HIMSELF.’ It would sell like wildfire.

“Wally? You drifted off there.” Geeze, Black Canary sure looked worried. He gave her a million dollar grin. Okay, maybe more like a ten dollar grin.

“Just thinking!”

“About what?” 

Wally shrugged. “How I could totally write a bestseller book if I put my mind to it,” he said, deflecting with an obvious half-truth. He’d have to get better at lying if he wanted to get out of there. And he  _ really _ wanted to get out of there.

Black Canary raised one manicured eyebrow, giving him a Look. There was a difference between a look and a Look. One carried much more weight, and made Wally feel like sinking into the sheets until he couldn't see it.

“Wally. We both know that that’s not an answer,” she murmured, lacing her fingers together.

“I’m telling the truth! I was just so tired and it was an impulse and I won’t do it again!” He snapped, fists gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. He felt his breathing speed up, nearly hyperventilating.

“Wally, breathe. In, one, two three, out, one two three.” Black Canary repeated this until his breathing began to slow.

Wally was so embarrassed, face flushed. God, he’d nearly had a panic attack, and he really didn’t want to think about it.

So he changed the subject.

“I– Uh– I have a question. Why am I on the Watchtower? Why didn’t they check me into a normal hospital?” It had been nagging at Wally this whole time.

“Due to your enhanced healing and your increased metabolism, taking you to a normal hospital would have likely both have outed you as Kid Flash and killed you. Doctors unaware of your powerset would not have given you the correct strength and dosage of medication, which, given the state you were in, would have killed you.”

“Oh.” He didn’t exactly know what he was supposed to feel about this.  “What about STAR Labs?”

“Privacy issues and the kind of care they’re equipped to provide. Even if they had people equipped to deal with suicide attempts on staff, it would reveal your identity to have you treated there.” Well, that was that. Wally wondered who’d found him, who’d made that consideration. Who had thought to bring him to the Watchtower, where the whole hero community probably knew what had happened. 

He sighed. They’d probably never take him seriously ever again, treat him as lesser, treat him with kid gloves, and all because he’d lost control. Even as Wally West, everybody'd always thought he was childish, distractible, and straight-up weird, and now they’d assume he was crazy, or unstable. Not capable of being a good hero.

Wally spoke again. “Can I see Uncle Barry and Aunt Iris now? Please?” The tremor in his voice was genuine. What did they think of him? How mad were they? His brain had started making up scenarios as soon as he saw them, all of which ended badly for Wally. Honestly, he was kinda… scared.

Black Canary seemed to soften at that, placing a gentle hand on his upper arm, giving him a small smile.

“Sure Wally. I’ll go tell them it’s okay to come in, but first, I would like to know how much of this you want me to keep confidential.”

“I– just tell them what they need to know. I don't want them to worry about me any more than they have to.” He really didn't want to be any more of a burden. 

Black Canary nodded and gestured to them through the observation window. Their movements were almost frantic, a mad clatter of limbs as Barry and Iris rushed to his bedside. They looked distraught, not put together all. It was odd, unsettling. He’d never seen his aunt or uncle this torn apart.

“Oh,  _ Wally, _ ” Uncle Barry practically sobbed, his voice thick as he and Aunt Iris wrapped him in an awkward half-hug. 

“I’m– I’m sorry,” murmured Wally, who felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t, wouldn’t cry. He had to be fine.

“Sweetheart,” said Iris. “You don’t need to apologize.”

And Wally started crying.

 

After a few tearful minutes, after the three had gained some composure, Black Canary returned to the room with a pressing conversation.

“We need to discuss a plan for treatment,” said Black Canary. Iris and Barry straightened up, now looking at her. “I believe that this is a conversation that Wally should have some input in. First off, since we can’t check him into a normal psychiatric ward without a large amount of questioning as to why he was not taken to the hospital, that is out of the picture.”

Iris and Barry nodded, and Black Canary continued. “I believe, based on what he’s told me, that supervision is our best option at the moment– The need for regular therapy sessions goes without saying, but we can discuss that more in depth later,” she added. Barry grimaced.

“I’m not sure how that would work. I don’t think we should send Wally back to school right away, but neither Iris nor I can afford to miss work right now, especially with Wally and I’s metabolism.” The three fell quiet.

“What if–” Wally interrupted. “What if, during the day, I hang out at the cave so that Red Tornado, or whoever is watching us that day, can keep an eye on me.” The three considered this.

“I don’t see any reason why not,” Black Canary prompted.

“Nor I,” said Iris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so! just a note. I've never actually been through the post-suicide attempt routine before, so the watchtower/dinah's procedures are put together from various articles on what to expect after a suicide attempt and a couple practice guidelines for therapists. basically, any inaccuracies in a doylist point of view are because this is non-firsthand piece of fiction, while the watsonian explanation was the convo between barry, iris, and dinah towards the end.
> 
> also, i know paid vacation is a thing but i am a teenager and i need things for plot reasons. 
> 
> (please don't be too harsh about inaccuracies that because you can be sure i am already literally agonizing about inaccuracies and i am already way too anxious about this fic. it is dummy ridiculous how stressed i am!)
> 
> wally's thought processes are super fucked up rn. like the summary says, he is deflecting, denying, and repressing!


	4. i am relieved that i'd left my room tidy (they'll think of me kindly when they come for my things)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally is home again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title is from [last words of a shooting star by mitski](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ssVf326Ox9g)!!
> 
> here's [the link to the fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1xrJZ0r1vW0wfDJIET07Qg?si=_nTLuytuTTGwwPWJHyR8Pg)
> 
> wally continues to be an emotional wreck
> 
> (tw for some small flashbacks to his attempt)

It was weird, being back home.

Everything looked the same--  _ nearly _ the same. Anything sharp was gone, any potentially lethal medication, disappeared. Nothing he could obviously use to off himself.

As he walked down the second floor hallway, Wally could see into the bathroom, where the shiny brick-red tiles were practically spotless. The bathtub was pure white, pristine.

Nothing looked out of place, at first glance.

As he lingered, staring at the scrubbed-down room, he notices the grout, stained in places, a dark, muddy color-- blood that had lingered long after that which had been wiped clean from the smoother surfaces surrounding it. 

_ His wrist dripped slowly. Wally felt almost as if in a dream, staring down at the clean wound on his wrist. He’d never hurt himself like that before, not that deep, not on the wrist.  _

_ With one shaking hand, he reached up, fumbling open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror, fingers wrapping around-- _

Wally shook himself out of his thoughts, swallowing the lump in his throat as he turned back down the hallway to his room. He did not linger any longer. He didn’t dwell.

Walking with quiet feet on the wooden floor, he approached his room. Wally placed his hand on the dull brass handle, turning it with a slow, deliberate motion.

He hadn’t been in here since--

_ A sheet of lined white paper sat in front of him, pen held loosely in his hand. What would he tell them, what would he say? How could he put all he felt onto one piece of paper?  _

_ After a moment, he put the pen back, returned the paper to his backpack, slipping it in between a graded exam, covered in red ink, and a half-finished homework assignment that he’d given up on. _

_ He took one last look at his room. _

Wally sat down on his bed, and ran his fingers over the duvet. It was an old-fashioned duvet, probably something that had been passed on by his grandparents. He’d never known them, not really. A part of him regretted it, but when he was younger, his grandmother had gotten cancer. Sure, he had loved her, but something about it scared him. Maybe it was the way that whenever she opened her mouth, thick white spittle would string in her mouth. Maybe it was all the machines she was hooked up to. Maybe it was watching her waste away.

He wished that he’d been older, smarter. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been scared.

Inhale.

Exhale.

The bandages were still wrapped around his arms, to be removed at the discretion of Watchtower doctors. They  _ itched _ , and Wally hated it. He wanted to peel the wrappings off and scratch at his arms like there was no tomorrow. It wasn’t that his arms were actually itchy-- the  bandages were just so  _ uncomfortable _ , scratching and chafing against his skin in little ways that nobody but wally would probably ever have noticed. He’d always been overly sensitive when it came to textures. It was just one of his many weird neuroses-- the way his skin seemed to buzz and roil if a texture was Bad. Clothes shopping was a pain, as besides finding clothes that looked good, he had to find clothes that wouldn’t set off his stupid brain with bad textures. 

Wally’s healing wasn’t as fast as Barry’s, so the bandages would probably stay on for another day or two. Which-- Shit-- Wally would be at the cave tomorrow.

He didn’t really have answers to the kinds of questions that would be asked about the bandages.

_ A part of him wanted to stop the bleeding, to open the cabinet and place sterile pads on the wounds, tape them down and pretend as if nothing had ever happened, clean the bathroom and leave no trace of his attempt. He didn’t want to make a mess, he didn’t want to cause any more trouble than he already had. _

_ But he didn’t. He just sat down on the floor, back against the cool tiles of the wall. _

Wally laid down on the bed, flat on his back, staring up at the blank white ceiling. His mind was blank, and he picked at the edge of his bandages, fidgeting.

He was more fidgety than usual, his hands drumming against the bed. Wally’s whole body was tense, full of nervous energy. It felt as if his chest had been hollowed out, his organs scooped clean from his guts and replaced with a rubber band, a spring, or something along those lines. He could collapse at any second. Implode. Shatter. Lose the last of his few precious marbles that he had left rattling about in his skull. 

Suddenly, Wally’s attention was caught by a knock at the door.

“Can I come in?” Wally hears Barry say, muffled. 

“Sure,” he replied. Wally doesn't look as he hears the door open.

“Walls, will you be okay Monday-- At the cave, I mean?” Wally rolled over onto his stomach so that Barry could sit down next to him. He felt the mattress sink down a little as Barry sat. Somehow, his uncle had hit the very heart of Wally’s fears. How would he face his friends? What would he say?

Wally didn’t say anything, just nodded quietly in response. They couldn't really babyproof the cave. That was their biggest concern, that Wally would try again. He didn’t think he would-- and even if he did, he wouldn’t do it at the cave, where Dick or Artemis or Kaldur or Connor or M’gann could find him. If Wally was going to die with them, where they could see it, it would be on the battlefield. As Kid Flash, Wally would die as a hero.

“I-- I don’t want you to think that because Iris and I are letting you stay at the cave, we want you to be an active part of the team,” said Barry softly.

“I’d assumed as much,” mumbled Wally, stock still. “Can I still go on patrol with you, at least?” 

“I--” Wally heard his uncle start, then stop in his tracks. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”

_ Oh. _

Somehow, Wally hadn’t expected this. It was almost unthinkable to him-- he couldn’t sit around, unable to help, to  _ run _ . He just-- he couldn’t handle it.

“Maybe we can still run together, before patrol?” Barry said tentatively, laying a gentle palm on Wally’s back.

Wally pressed his face into the blanket, discreetly wiping the tears that had made their way into his eyes. He couldn't let Barry see him cry. His shoulders hitched as he tried desperately to hide how much he wanted to start sobbing.

Inhale.

Exhale.

“Sure,” Wally mumbled, face still buried in his arms and in the soft fabric of his blanket. He tried to not sound as crushed as he felt, tried to keep his voice even and light no matter how much he wanted to burst into tears.

“Wally--” Barry started to say, but Wally cut him off.

“I said, I’m fine.” His tone was a little sharper than he would have liked it to be. “Can you please leave me alone? Just for a little bit?” His voice was softer now.

After a moment, Barry tentatively spoke. “Okay, Wally. Don’t hesitate to tell me if you need anything.” Wally felt the mattress rise as Barry stood. He stayed stock-still until he heard the door shut behind his uncle, at which he felt the tension drain from his body.

Wally sat up, and glanced around his room. On his bedside table, his phone sat face-down. It wasn’t plugged in. He hadn't really expected to ever use it again. Wally pressed the power button, hoping it was charged, but the screen just flashed the low battery symbol, and Wally sighed. 

After a moment of groping around for his charger, he plugged the phone in.

Laying back, Wally let his mind drift. He wasn't thinking of anything at all really, and still it felt as if his mind was racing. Out of impulse, Wally scratched at his bandages. It just seemed to make the undeniable itch worse. Wally knew that if he took them off, he’d probably end up scratching off the scabs that had probably already formed.

The soft  _ buzz _ of his phone turning on pulled him out of that semi-intrusive line of thinking. Wally grabbed his phone as it started buzzing incessantly, all his missed messages popping up on screen.

Scrolling through the notifications on the lock screen, Wally paled at the sheer amount of texts. Linda, Hartley, and Dick had all texted him more than once. And called. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was even going to read to them all, much less  _ respond  _ to them.

_ He hoped they wouldn’t mourn him for too long. Wally loved his friends so much it hurt. His friends-- they loved him not, but he knew that one day they’d see him for what he really was and leave him behind. _

_ Maybe he would just save them the trouble. It would be easier, at the very least. _

Wally opened the groupchat he shared with Linda and Hartley. He didn't read their messages. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to them, or see their worry, or whatever. He just-- He just couldn't really handle it right now. So, instead of responding to any one message, Wally typed out one short text and sent it.

**flash gordon [9:47 pm]:** i’m alive.

He turned off notifications. Whatever conversation the three of them would have would be better done in person.

Pulling up Dick’s chat, Wally once again didn't bother to read his texts, instead tapping out a simple message--

**flash gordon [9:51 pm]:** hey rob!! I’m sorry i wasn't really able to text you bc i wasn’t able to check my phone (i can't really talk now or tomorrow either) but i will see you monday as usual!

Wally deleted and rewrote it almost five times before he bit the bullet and sent it. Sending one text to Dick was  _ far  _ more stressful than it had any right to be. He wasn’t that great at judging what a  _ normal _ message would be in this situation. Hopefully, Dick would think he’d just been grounded or something, and not in the hospital. With Wally’s luck, Dick already knew what had happened. 

Dick would never see Wally the same again if he knew what happened, this much was true. Wally didn't really know what that would entail. Best case scenario, he’d just be a little more overprotective or something. Worst case, he wouldn’t be able to trust Wally again, wouldn’t be able to see him as competent and capable and stable enough to be a  _ good hero _ .

This utterly distressing train of thought had Wally turning off his phone completely. It would be better not to dwell on what his friend might hypothetically be thinking about him.

Tucking himself under his covers, Wally didn’t even bother changing into his pyjamas. He just shrugged off his jeans, curling into a tight ball under the warm blankets. It was earlier than usual.

At least he didn’t have to deal with the trainwreck that was his life if he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finished writing this chapter instead of studying for my ap test which... i will do now. mad respect for whoever created this ~350 term quizlet i found!
> 
> off topic, but i just applied for a summer internship, and if i get it, this will likely not be updated anywhere near as often. however, they're only taking 3-4 people and they have ~30 applicants. which. oof


	5. circuit board to brain (with two lungs collecting change)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wally talks about things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from [cabinet man by lemon demon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=doqxzXEMiio) bc i'm that bitch.
> 
> here's [the link to the fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1xrJZ0r1vW0wfDJIET07Qg?si=_nTLuytuTTGwwPWJHyR8Pg)
> 
> in this chapter, i make the obvious assumption that every town is exactly the same as mine, and it shows!
> 
> ah, dialogue, my old enemy.

Wally sat in Black Canary’s waiting room.

He’d ran to Star City where her civilian office was located with Barry, and Wally had revelled in the freedom of running there, the wind whipping through his hair as his feet pounded against the pavement. The world seemed to melt away as he ran, the burn of lactic acid almost unnoticeable. For the first time in… days, Wally felt _good_.

And then he got to Star City and all his troubles came rushing back, and he remembered exactly where he was running and why.

Not a great feeling.

So, there he sat, legs drumming against the carpeted floor of the old building. Black Canary’s offices were on the second floor of what probably used to be an old apartment building back in Victorian times, or whatever, before it got converted into office buildings.

The white noise machine was oddly soothing as Wally waited, and he let his mind drift.

“Wally.” He jumped, then turned to face Black Canary.

“Hey, Bl-- Hello,” Wally said, trying to keep his voice sounding cheerful, rather than show how tentative and awkward he felt. He wasn’t entirely sure what name he should call her by. Dinah felt too familiar for a situation like this, and Ms. Lance just felt weird. He'd never called her that out of costume before. For obvious reasons, he couldn’t really call her Black Canary. Maybe he could take a leaf out of Captain Marvel’s booklet and call her Ms. Dinah?

God, why did everything have to be so confusing?

“Would you like to come in?” Black Canary motioned to the open door, and Wally stood awkwardly.

“Sure!” Wow. His voice sounded fake even to himself. He walked over to one plush armchair and sat down.

He pulled his knees up to his chest, then stopped, looking at Black Canary.

“Is it alright if I…” Wally started. She smiled at him gently.

“Go right ahead.” Black Canary sat down in the other chair, and Wally wrapped his arms around his knees.

“So, therapy! How does this work,” said Wally, attempting to joke around.

“Well,” said Black Canary, “Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself.”

Okay, this was easy. He could do this.

“Well, my name is Wally West, as you may have already known. I like long walks on the beach--” Black Canary raised an eyebrow.

“Wally.”

“ _Fiiiiine_. I live with my Aunt Iris and Uncle Barry in Central City. I moonlight as Kid Flash, and I work with a bunch of other teen heroes on a secret Justice League team. My best real-life friends are Hartley Rathaway and Linda Park, but my best hero friend is Robin. I like science and pulp sci-fi novels,” he paused, and looked at Black Canary. “Should I continue?”

She smiled. “That’s a pretty sound introduction.” Wally grinned at the praise, even if it felt like a somewhat low-hanging fruit. After a moment, she changed the subject. “Just for reference, have you ever been diagnosed with anything in particular?”

Wally nodded.

“May I ask what?”

“ADHD-- and autism,” he said.

“And the diagnoses are from before you acquired your powers,” she stated, tilting her head to the side in an almost bird-like fashion.

“Yeah.” Wally knew he was being kind of curt, but it made him feel weird, talking about this sort of thing.

“Have you ever received any accommodations for either?”

“Well, I currently have a 504 plan with the school, but I had an IEP freshman year,” Wally said. Under his breath, he mumbled, “It’s not like my teachers actually pay attention to it or anything.”

Black Canary leaned onto her elbows. “And why do you say that?”

He shrugged. “I mean-- they act like I don’t have it or need it because my grades stay reasonably high and because I’m taking the highest-level classes it’s possible for me to take as a Junior. Oftentimes, I’ll ask for an extension under my 504 plan, and they just won’t grant me them, no matter how much I need them.”

Black Canary frowned. “That’s noncompliance, and you should bring that up with a school administrator or the 504 coordinator at your school--”

“No,” Wally interjected sharply. “It’s fine. I don’t wanna make a big deal about it.” He could feel himself tensing up.

“Wally.”

“I said I don’t wanna!” He snapped, curling further into himself, face flushing pink with embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright Wally,” Black Canary murmured, smiling at him in a way that made Wally want to disappear. He didn’t really like sympathy or whatever. It made him feel crazy uncomfortable.

“Sorry,” Wally said again, lighter this time, uncurling and swinging his legs over the arm of the chair. He really hoped that he looked nowhere near as stressed as he felt. This whole situation was awkward. He shrunk under Black Canary’s stare. There was nothing to distract her, to draw his attention away from him. It felt as if he had been stripped bare and left out to dry, exposed and uncomfortable. Wally had always tried to draw attention away from himself and his emotions. He wasn’t really into sharing how he felt. “Can we change the subject?”

“Sure,” said Black Canary, lacing her fingers calmly. “This may seem somewhat weighted for a first session, but I’d like to at least bring up the reason you are at therapy in the first place.” Wally stiffened. Shit. He was really hoping that she’d let him slide, just for their first session, but alas, Wally had terrible luck, as usual.

“Yup,” he said, doing his best to look nonchalant.

“You can't just brush off in a day, Wally. You tried to kill yourself,” Black Canary’s voice was thick with concern as she leaned forward, looking Wally. “I was wondering if you’ve told any of your friends what happened.”

Wally made a small noise of dissent, looking away from her.

“Why not?” She asked.

After a moment, he spoke. “I don't want them to see me differently.” Wally’s voice was quiet.

“What makes you think that them seeing you differently is a bad thing?”

“I--” Wally stopped, hands fidgeting nervously in his lap. “Well, they’ll think I’ve gone crazy or cracked or something. Tell me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think anyone, including the team, noticed.” Black Canary was quiet for a moment.

“You’re right. Oftentimes, people get so good at hiding their true feelings that no one notices until it’s far too obvious to ignore. No one simply ‘cracks’ out of nowhere,” she said. “But once you tell them, it will take a weight off your chest.”

“I don’t want to tell them all,” murmured Wally. “I don’t wanna turn this into a huge ordeal or whatever. I don’t want a press conference or anything. If I’m gonna tell anyone, it’s gotta be on my own terms.”  Black Canary leaned back in her seat.

“And that’s perfectly understandable. We can start small. A private meeting with a single member of the team, in a soundproof room on the Watchtower. How does that sound?” Black Canary asked.

Wally sighed. He might as well just rip the bandaid off, get it over with. BC was right, telling one person now would be way easier than dealing with a huge dramatic confrontation later. Having someone in his corner would be nice, frankly.

After a moment, he responded. “That-- That sounds fine, I guess.” Black Canary smiled

“Who would you be willing to tell?”

“I don’t wanna tell Connor--” Wally stopped, and immediately backtracked, flapping his hands nervously. “I mean-- He just-- I don't wanna tell him because he definitely hates me-- or at the very least we aren't close--”

“Wally, It’s alright. You don't need to explain your reasons to me.” Wally let out a long exhale, taking a moment to slow his breathing.

“I want to explain, at least a little. It makes me feel less stressed about my thought process,” Wally said awkwardly. If he explained things, there was less of a chance someone would get upset. Less of a chance that someone would misinterpret what he was saying or purposefully and maliciously twist his words to mean something he never meant to say. He already tripped over his own tongue enough as it was, he didn’t need any outside help.

Black Canary smiled gently at him. “Then go right ahead.”

“Well, I don’t wanna tell Artemis. She hates me. Or M’gann. I love her, but I don’t know if she’d really get it. And, I can’t dump that kind of thing on Rob. He may try to act like a grownup, but he’s a middle schooler. Practically a baby!” Wally exclaimed. “I mean, seriously. He’s what, five foot?” Black Canary let out a small huff of a laugh, and that alone made Wally beam. He was at least doing _something_ right!

“So, you’d be willing to tell Kaldur’ahm?” Black Canary asked coolly.

“Uh--” Wally stopped in his tracks. _Would_ he be able to tell Kal? Kal’d probably handle it best, plus, as the team leader, he should know. Also he gave the best advice, and would probably be the most understanding in a way that Wally could deal with. “I guess,” he mumbled.

“That’s good! Speaking of which, are you planning to tell Linda or Hartley?’”

“Wait-- Hold on a sec. I just realized that since I’m not gonna be at school tomorrow, I gotta text Linda and Harley to see if they can bring me my homework,” he said, pulling out his phone. He held the power button for a few seconds, then unlocked it, and pulled up his conversation with the two.

He typed out a text. Both Linda and Hartley were online,  

 **flash gordon [1:21]:** hey, can you guys bring me my hw and the notes for this week?? i’m gonna be out but idk for how long

 **lois lane? idk her[1:22]:** Of course!

 **rat bastard [1:22]:** we got you

 **flash gordon [1:22]:** coolcoolcool can we talk when you bring it over?

 **rat bastard [1:23]:** sure walls, what’s this about?

 **flash gordon [1:23]:** i’ll tell you when i see you. i can't really talk rn, bye!!

Wally turned his phone off again.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, wincing.

“It’s alright,” Black Canary said, leaning back in her seat. “Now, is there anything in particular you want to talk about?”

The session lasted about ten more minutes, and Wally spent nearly all ten talking about whatever the hell he wanted to. It was mostly chemistry, at first, but somehow he ended up getting so off topic the two of them ended up talking about Star Trek. It was kinda nice actually. Black Canary didn’t interrupt him, or tell him that she didn’t care, or politely change the subject, just asked questions at the right points. Wally appreciated the respite from the uncomfortable questions, and from his own worries about what had happened. Dumping information on Black Canary helped take his mind off things, and Wally let himself relax for the first time in a while.

When the session ended, Wally found Barry waiting outside in one of the chairs.

“How was it?” Barry asked, smiling awkwardly at Wally.

Wally didn't say anything, just kinda shrugged, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket. Leaving the session, he didn't really wanna talk about it.

He turned as Black Canary left the office.

“Barry,” she said, smiling. “How are you?”

“I’ve been better.” Barry rubbed the back of his neck, returning the smile somewhat awkwardly. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if it would be possible for me to arrange a meeting this evening with Kaldur, so that he and Wally can speak. I’m thinking the Watchtower.”

“Oh. Uh, sure. What time?”

“Does nine sound good for both you and Wally?”

Wally looked at Barry. Barry looked at Wally

“Yeah, sounds good,” said Wally, shrugging.

 

...

 

Kaldur was, for the most part, incredibly confused.

After training, Black Canary had pulled him aside, telling him that he was needed on the Watchtower, which in and of itself was strange. Kaldur didn't think that anyone else on the team had ever been on the Watchtower. Of course, they all logically knew it existed, but there was something about it that felt unattainable to Kaldur. He used to feel that way about the world above the water. Logically, he knew it existed, but never having been there, never having seen it, it didn't _feel_ like a place that was real, like a place that he would ever visit.

It was better than he could have ever imagined. Stepping onto the Watchtower was like stepping into a dream. Though the huge bay windows, Kaldur could see the earth below them, its vast oceans and massive continents covered by swirling shifting clouds. He’d seen pictures of the earth from space before, but none of them prepared him for the reality of its beauty.

After a few moments of standing with his jaw hanging open, Black Canary put a hand on his shoulder, breaking his reverie.

“Overwhelming, isn’t it. I did the exact same thing when I first joined the League full-time,” she said softly. “Now, we should probably get going. We do have… a meeting after all.” Kaldur blanched slightly. The reality of the situation was not good.

The two of them walked together down one of the many hallways that radiated from the main room of the Watchtower. Once the two of them reached a certain elevator, Black Canary turned to him.

“We’re going to be heading to one of the private meeting rooms. All our meeting rooms are completely soundproofed, so anything said within cannot be overheard. The cameras have been turned off as well, for confidentiality reasons.”

Kaldur nodded as the elevator doors slid open. Why the confidentiality aspect of this was relevant, he did not know. However, the emphasis on it was frankly concerning.

The entire situation was odd. The change in protocol-- allowing a non-Leaguer onto the Watchtower-- and the emphasis on privacy and confidentiality was odd in and of itself. Kaldur, however, did not voice his concerns. It was not his place to question Black Canary, and the situation would likely be explained once they reached their location.

The two of them walked briskly down another hall once exiting the elevator. The two of them, whilst walking, came across no other Leaguers. It almost felt as if the Watchtower were a ghost town, empty and devoid of life.

They stopped at a particular door, room number 247. Black Canary dialed in a number to the keypad, and the door slid open, revealing a comfortable, but small meeting room, with two armchairs.

There was someone sitting in one of the armchairs.

“Wally?” Murmured Kaldur, astonishment clear in his voice. What was he doing here? Kaldur’s brows furrowed.

“Hey Kal,” replied Wally, a small awkward smile on his face. Wally did not look good. There were dark smudges under his eyes, his hair looked unbrushed, and he was wearing a slightly-too-big brown hoodie that covered all but the tips of his fingers, which drummed anxiously against his leg, almost blurry in their speed. His whole frame was tight with unease.

“What is going on?” Asked Kaldur, as he sat down in the chair opposite Wally, staring at the other boy intensely. Wally was avoiding his gaze, eyes flicking nervously about the room, as if searching for a way to free himself, to escape.

“I-- Well--” Wally’s eyes flicked downward, and he blushed, embarrassed. “I’m not sure where to start.”

“It may be easiest to start at the beginning,” offered Kaldur gently.

“Are you sure-- Do you want to know--” Wally was very nearly hyperventilating now. It was obvious to Kaldur that whatever Wally needed to tell him was… distressing.  

“It’s okay, Wally. You need to breathe,” murmured Kaldur, not sure exactly how he should react.

Wally bowed his head breathing deeply in and out. His face was sheet white, and Kaldur had the unshakable urge to hug him.

“I tried to kill myself,” said Wally, his voice so quiet that he was almost whispering.

Kaldur’s eyes went wide. His stomach dropped.

Wally-- Wally had _what?_

He felt cold, frozen in place. Questions sprung up in his mind unbidden, first and foremost: _Why?_ What had happened?

Kaldur swallowed, finally looking at Wally, who had pulled his knees up to his chest. Kaldur couldn’t see his face, buried in his knees.

“Wally,” his voice was soft. “Wally, I honestly do not know what to say in this situation, but I hope you know that I would be willing to offer a listening ear.”

Tension seemed to drain from Wally’s frame, though his face stayed buried in his knees.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, voice muffled. “Thank you for not, like, overreacting or anything. I don’t wanna make a huge deal about this.” Kaldur knew that this _was_ a big deal. Wally had tried to _kill himself_ , something that Kaldur almost couldn’t fathom.

Wally had always seemed so… _happy_. His presence on the team made them all work better together. He lightened the mood, made people happy and kept their minds off the injustices that they had witnessed in their time as heroes. Was it all a mask? An act to hide his real hurt deep down inside?

Whatever front Wally had constructed, it was gone now. Nothing had ever seemed _off_ to Kaldur. There were no signs, no symbols that foreshadowed this. Even as Kaldur racked his brain of the days leading up to Wally’s absence from training, nothing stood out. He’d seemed just as cheerful and energetic as usual, like an open book. It was unsettling, just how much he did not truly know Wally, just how much he was unable to read him.

“I--” Kaldur paused, unsure how to continue, but after a moment, he spoke. “Why did you choose to tell me? You are closer with Robin, and you have no reason to tell anyone on the team if you do not feel comfortable in telling.”

Wally looked up.

“I wanted to tell you because I’m gonna be coming to the cave tomorrow. I-- I can't really go back to school yet. Too many risks or something.” Wally seemed to be trying to pass it off as not being a big deal, but Kaldur could see how the embarrassed flush on his face went redder, and how his fingers were once more drumming in anxious patterns on his thigh. Wally was scared-- _no,_ absolutely terrified of what might happen when he showed up at the cave tomorrow.

“If you need anything at all from me tomorrow, you may always ask.” Kaldur smiled gently.

“Thank you-- Thanks a lot, Kal.” Wally managed an awkward, but clearly genuine grin. “That means a lot to me.” mood

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you haven't already, go check out my tumblr, @flash-and-substance! i occasionally post updates on chapters as they progress, and i post a lot of my art, if you're into that!!


	6. as i rehearse my greeting (i say hello without too much intent)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title from [i go hungry by mother mother](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tb_n0ok0ovk)!
> 
> here's [the link to the fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1xrJZ0r1vW0wfDJIET07Qg?si=_nTLuytuTTGwwPWJHyR8Pg)
> 
> i am... not _entirely_ sure how i got to the conclusion that the lounge in the cave was just off the training area, but now i can't change it without fucking up the chapter! yay!
> 
> also, i made a playlist of all the songs that i used for the titles and stuff. find it [here!](https://open.spotify.com/user/batkennedy/playlist/1xrJZ0r1vW0wfDJIET07Qg?si=Loe9s8scRxS7JGzvlv0YyA)

Wally returned to the cave on Monday. 

Normally, at 6:00 am Monday morning, Wally would be sitting up in bed to the sound of his alarm. His eyes would be bleary and his back would be aching and in his heart of hearts, all he would want to do was go right the fuck back to sleep, and he was completely and utterly unashamed to admit it. So, Wally would set his phone timer for 30 minutes, curl back up in his blankets, half-awake and achy as hell, and doze.

This, of course would give him about fifteen minutes to get ready, because he had to be at the bus stop at 6:45. Technically, the bus came at six fifty-something, but Wally was never one to chance it. To be frank, at the beginning of the school year, he’d left at 6:40 exactly, just to avoid the possibility that he had the wrong time for when the bus came, or to account for the fact that the bus driver might come too early.

Fifteen minutes gave him just enough time to pack his bag, brush his teeth, get dressed, and eat what to anyone else would be a large breakfast. 

However, today, Wally wasn’t very hungry. His stomach was tight with nervousness, and he picked at his breakfast with the air of someone who didn’t want to eat but was too polite not to try and imply that in any way. It was nerve-wracking, knowing that he’d have to face Conner and M’gann, hell, even facing Kaldur again scared him. Robin would be at school, thank god, and so would Artemis, but neither Conner nor M’gann was stupid. They’d know something was up, and Wally was terrified that they might guess right away.

He had made the executive decision to wear sweatpants today, something he would only usually wear if he didn't have to leave the house or if he was sleeping. Fuck- It wasn’t like he could lose any more dignity. He was tired and he could care less what people thought of him. 

Okay, that was a fucking lie. Like, a complete and total lie. He needed everyone ever to like him SO MUCH all the time. And it was exhausting! Wally knew that he should probably put real pants on, but he just couldn’t muster up the effort to care.

It took him a minute or two to find an unused backpack, in which he shoved his laptop and cord. And a pair of headphones, and his phone, and his phone charger. And a book. Wally wasn’t entirely sure what he’d be allowed to do at the cave, and he wasn’t about to chance being stuck at the place with nothing to do except sit around and think about things. Wally letting himself stop and think would not be pleasant. 

He shouldered the old bag, and for a moment, just stood in his room, staring into the mirror above his dresser.

Damn, he looked bad. His eyes were basically two purple smudges with how deep the shadows around them were. His hair was the opposite of windblown and fluffy, and he was pretty sure his hands were trembling, if that wasn’t a trick of the light and his tired eyes. Everything felt fuzzy around the edges, and Wally wished he could just curl right back up under his covers forever, warm and safe.

He ached all the way down to his bones, his spine achy, his fingers cramped, his arms itchy just under the bandages. Wally’s skin tingled and his ankles hurt. It was not pleasant.

Wally let out a gentle sigh, and trudged out of his room and down the stairs, to where Barry was waiting by the door.

“You ready kid?” Barry’s voice was gentle, almost pitying, and something in Wally wanted to snarl at the tone. He didn’t like being pitied. He wished everything would just be normal again. 

Yeah,” murmured Wally, his voice low.

Together, in silence, the two of them ran to the zeta Tube. When they got there, they didn’t speak. Wally stared at his shoes. Barry looked as if he wanted to speak.

“Wally--” He said, and paused. “Will you be okay to go in alone?”

“I’m  _ fine _ ,” Wally snapped, and then winced. “I’m not a child,” he mumbled, his voice softer. He felt bad for snapping at Barry, but he-- he couldn’t help it. It was as if he were a rubber band, wound far too tight, tense and close to snapping.

“Okay,” said Barry, his voice almost a whisper. “Have a good day kid.”

Wally gave him a small smile and a little wave as he stepped into the zeta tube.

“Recognized: Kid Flash B03.” The mechanized voice of the computer rang out throughout the cave as Wally appeared. He watched as everyone’s gaze snapped to him, and he felt himself wither slightly.

“Hey,” said Wally, smiling awkwardly. “I’m back.” He gave a little wave, careful to spread his palm so that his sleeve didn’t slip down to reveal the stark white bandages upon his wrists. He could feel his heart practically pounding out of his chest. His throat was tight and Wally knew that no amount of breathing exercises would stop the pounding on his chest, the thump of blood pounding in his ears. It did not feel great. 

“Wally!” Exclaimed M’gann. “Where were you?” Both M’gann and Conner approached him, and Wally did his best to plaster a smile on his face.

“Home,” he said, lying through his teeth. “I had to get some really important stuff done for school and I couldn't really come to the cave until I finished it.” It was a decent lie. He’d had to stay home to finish schoolwork before, so it was a pretty solid cover.

“Oh, I’m glad you’re okay,” said M’gann, smiling at him somewhat nervously. Conner furrowed his brows.

“Wait,” Conner said, crossing his arms. “Why are you here now?” 

“I-- Well, I have this week off from school, but Barry and Iris have work this week, and I decided I’d rather hang out here than at home alone.” Wally winced internally. That was the most blatant and flimsy lie he’d ever told, but he didn't think that there was any way for Connor and M’gann verify it as a lie.

Connor narrowed his eyes at Wally. Wally nearly winced externally this time.

“Okay,” said M’gann giving Wally a gentle frown. Ouch. Her ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed’ look was perfect.

“Anyways,” said Wally, looking for an out. “I‘m just gonna…” Wally’s voice trailed off, and he made his escape.

 

…

 

It was nearly two pm. Wally had been at the cave for  _ ages _ and there was nothing for him to do. He couldn't train, and it was so stupid. 

Of course, he knew  _ why _ they weren't letting him train, why Red Tornado came to check up on him periodically in his own weird robotic way. He kinda reminded Wally of Spock, but with less emotion. Actually, now that he thought about it? Spock was a pretty emotional dude, deep down. Like, that one episode where they got drunk on that one virus and Spock just cried a bunch until Kirk slapped him? Also, when he thought he killed Kirk and got all emo about it. Spock looked  _ way _ happy to see Kirk again. Wally forgot where he was going to go with that.

Anyways, Red Tornado did his best, but the guy still kinda creeped Wally out. The guy was probably watching him over the security cameras or something, which, to be honest, made Wally  _ really  _ paranoid.

It made him anxious to think that, despite what Wally’s more logical aspects told him, Red Tornado could be judging his actions, his choice of shows when he decided he wanted to watch something on Netflix. He wasn’t even really sure what he wanted to watch! Maybe Star Trek, but Wally had watched that enough that he could probably recite a whole episode by memory.

He’d listened to music for a while, but even that got boring after the playlist looped. Hell, Wally would rather have homework or something to do than just sit around with nothing to do. So, instead of all that, he did what he wanted to do the least.

Wally watched the others train. It certainly never got boring, despite the repetitions of attack and defense. There was something near soothing about the familiar fighting patterns, how Kaldur fought just like the water he controlled, acting and reacting in such a way that made Wally think of an intricate dance. How Conner always pushed forward, never giving up any ground that he knew he couldn’t get back. How M’gann kept such control over her shifting and her flight.

He really wished that one day he’d be as good a fighter as them. All he really did was hit people while going really fast, and maybe like, trip them if he was lucky? Wally was nowhere near as coordinated as any of his teammates. He constantly felt like a big clumsy oaf around the rest of them, limbs that were too wrong, a running technique that was probably incorrect, and no  _ actual _ formal training to his name. 

Wally stretched, cracking his back and letting out a loud yawn.

His eyes felt hot and itchy, his lids as if they were ten-pound weights. He closed his eyes, and everything felt better. It took him far too long to open them again, rather choosing to stay like that for a moment eyes closed against the harsh lights of the cave.

He scrubbed his forehead with the heel of his palm. It didn't feel like his hand, as if someone else were touching him, hand warm and soft against the cool skin of his forehead.

Wally sat up, body tense with the effort of keeping his body awake and comfortable.  All he wanted to do was curl up in a tight little ball and pass out, safe from the whirling thoughts that occupied his brain whenever he had a moment to stop and rest and  _ think.   _ But he couldn’t.

He couldn't let himself relax. He didn’t want to chance running into Dick-- he had to be able to leave at the first whirr of the zeta tube. Or at least retreat to his room at the cave. The others, Wally had been able to fool, at least a little, but Dick?  Dick would see right through him, break down Wally’s carefully constructed mask. Wally was always terrible at lying to Dick.

Wally closed his laptop, placing it in his laptop case and sliding it back in his bag. He really wasn’t using it right now. He let his eyes slip closed again, a few moments of rest couldn’t hurt. He leaned back, resettling on the couch, shifting until he was comfortable.

He let out a gentle sigh.

One deep breath, then another, and Wally was asleep.

 

…

 

Dick was not expecting Wally to be at the cave when he left for training. 

It’s just that-- Dick’d heard absolutely nothing from Wally since he sent that weird message on Saturday. Wally was always really communicative with Dick, even if he had school. Dick was never sure how Wally even paid attention in class, with how much he seemed to  _ not _ pay attention. Somehow though, Wally always seemed to have straight A’s by the time the quarter ended. 

The computer announced Dick’s presence to the cave, and he waved at Kaldur, M’gann, and Conner as he entered. They were training together, or so it seemed. 

“Hey, Dick!” M’gann called.

“Hey, guys,” he responded with a small smile. “What’s up?” M’gann’s smile dropped a little, and Kaldur looked away.

“Wally’s back,” said Connor, bluntly.

“Wait,  _ what? _ ”

“Yeah, he’s over on the couch in the lounge area.” Conner pointed over his shoulder with a thumb. Dick looked over at the couch. He couldn’t see much of Wally, just a shock of bright red hair over the back of it. Yup. Definitely Wally.

“Does anyone have any idea where he was?”

“Wally said he had schoolwork he needed to get done.” Now  _ that _ was strange. Wally would never pass up coming to training to do schoolwork unless he absolutely had to. He would either lie about it and do it some time during the school day, or he’d get it done in class, or… something. Wally may come off as a slacker, but Dick knew that he was practically the opposite when it came to getting his schoolwork done, specifically because Barry said that he couldn't train or go on patrol if he didn't do his work first.

“Are you sure?” Asked Dick. Kaldur still wasn't looking at him. Whatever was up, Kaldur knew something.

Suddenly, Dick heard the distinctive buzz of a phone alarm from the lounge area. He watched as Wally shifted, stretched, and turned to look out at the training area. In a fraction of a second, Wally was moving, gathering up his stuff and shoving it into his bag.

_ Shit. _ Whatever it was, Wally didn't want Dick to confront him about it. He was probably the only person in the cave right now who could and would call bullshit on whatever lie Wally tried to feed them.

“Wally--” Dick reached out, snagging the speedster by his arm as Wally made an attempt to speed past him, stopping him in his tracks.

The two of them stumbled forward, barely managing to keep upright. Finally able to actually get a good look at him, Dick stared at Wally. At the twist of his brows, his clenched jaw, at the way that Wally’s purple-smudged eyes darted about, looking everywhere but Dick’s face.  _ Wally was afraid. _ He was utterly terrified, and Dick had utterly no clue why.

Wally practically  _ tore _ his arm away from Dick, taking his chance to immediately start running towards the zeta Tube. By the time the tube announced Wally’s exit, he was long gone.

Dick stared after him, eyes wide, jaw very nearly slack at the state of his friend. What had happened that had left Wally so openly devastated? 

A gentle hand on his arm snapped Dick out of his thoughts.

“Are you okay, Robin?” asked M’gann.

“I’m fine,” said Dick, voice low, soft, and shaky. “But Wally certainly isn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i took so long to update!! this chapter was made up of a bunch of little disconnect bits at first, and getting them all to mesh was kinda a pain :/


	7. how a life can move from the darkness (they said to get better)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song for this chapter is [i wanna get better by the bleachers](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8twpQTna_9w)! here's [the link to the fic playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1xrJZ0r1vW0wfDJIET07Qg?si=_nTLuytuTTGwwPWJHyR8Pg), again.
> 
> i am sorry that somehow i have become _less_ active in the summer, but i swear to god i have not abandoned this fic (or any of my wips for that matter which i will blather about a bit in the notes at the end of the chapter) to go do shakespeare. i did get my internship, which is starting _very soon_ and i am what may be described as nervouscited!!
> 
> this chapter is brought to you by: the love in my heart that i feel for hartley and linda

“Nobody’s responding,” said Hartley, ringing the doorbell for what Linda swore was like the fifth time.

“Yeah, no shit!” Linda snapped, then felt bad. They were both worried, and it wasn’t fair of her to take that worry out on Hartley.

“Should I text him?” Linda shrugged. The two of them were sitting on Wally’s front porch, Linda perched precariously on the railing, feet swinging. Hartley was pacing nervously by the door, and Linda’s feet swang. Hartley gnawed at his lip, a frown on his face, brows pressed together. Linda thought her face was rather making the same expression.

“I’m gonna text him,” said Hartley, who stopped pacing to stand next to Linda. She peered over his shoulder as he typed out a text, which read:

**rat bastard [2:27pm]:**  hey wally, linda and i are at your house, where are you?

Hartley gave Linda a look, holding the phone out for her to see. In return, she gave him a thumbs up that he’d phrased things in a way that sounded good. The three of them did that often. It was a thing Wally had started, often worriedly asking if he made sense, if people understood what he was trying to say and that he wouldn't sound rude saying it. Wally was one to speak without thinking, or at the very least without considering how his words might sound, and one too many miscommunications over tone and phrasing had made him anxious about texting people. Not really on purpose, Linda and Hartley, had started checking in with each other about their message tone. The three of them had been friends for so long that they would pick up each other's habits. 

Hartley sent the text.

The two sad next to each other in silence, expressions twin pictures of stress as they leaned up against the railing of the West-Allen household’s porch. Linda leaned her head on Hartley’s shoulder, letting herself relax against her friend.

“It’ll be okay.” Hartley’s voice was low and soft in her ear, a quiet attempt at reassurance. She wasn't sure if Hartley meant that for himself, or for her, or both. Maybe he felt that if he spoke it into existence it would be true.

Linda didn't respond, not verbally, just laced their fingers together in a silent gesture of comfort.

“What do you think-” Hartley started to say, but a voice from the bottom of the steps cut him off.

“Hey guys, I’m sorry I forgot that you were coming to meet me.” Linda and Hartley both turned to look at the bottom of the stairs, where Wally and Barry stood side by side. For the first time Linda could remember, they both looked as if they needed to sleep for a full 24 hours, despite their speedster metabolism. Barry waved at them, half a smile plastered across his face. 

“I have your homework,” said Hartley awkwardly, picking his backpack up off the desk with a small smile. A lot of people, upon first seeing Hartley and Wally, assumed they were siblings. For one, they both had firey red hair, a frankly ridiculous amount of freckles, and bright green eyes, but that was about it. Hartley was way more lanky than Wally, and taller too, Wally being more than a few inches shorter than Hartley. Wally, though relatively lithe, had really fantastic thighs as a result of all the running he did, and he wore a lot of shorts, which Linda definitely appreciated. 

Besides that, the two had really different faces. Where Wally had soft cheeks, a button nose, and a big buoyant smile, Hartley was all sharp edges, high cheekbones, and a knifelike grin.

Lord, did Linda love her friends.

“Thanks guys.” Wally gave a half-hearted smile, and Linda tried to return that smile with as much reassurance as she could muster up. She hoped she didn't look as worried as she felt. 

“Should we head in?”

 

-

 

Wally lead them up the stairs to his room, hands shoved deep in his pockets. He– He didn’t want to admit it, but he was utterly terrified of how Linda and Hartley would react. Logically, Wally knew they wouldn’t be angry at him, wouldn’t be reviled or hated or any number of worst-case scenarios that his mind thought up, but Wally’s anxieties didn’t rely on logic. It was like his brain revelled in making him terrified to tell anyone how he felt. 

They didn’t talk the whole way up, Wally not daring to glance over his shoulder to see what faces his friends were making, not saying a word. It felt as if his ribs were slowly tightening on his lungs, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

Fuck.

Wally opened the door to his room, sitting down on the too-neat blankets on his bed. He’d made them again, just before he’d left for the cave. He wasn’t sure how he’d thought that going back there would be any less of a disaster. And it was certainly a disaster.

Linda sat down on his left, leaning back onto her hands. Her eyes were kind as he looked at him. It made him feel like everything would be okay, the way she smiled softly at him as he tentatively met her eyes for the first time since he'd seen her.. 

“Is this– you know,” Hartley used _sotto voce_. “Kid Flash business?” Wally turned to him, looking right at him. He wanted to be open– _honest_ with Hartley, but it was hard. He decided that half-truths would hurt less, that he could– he could–

He was definitely taking too long to respond, and that made him grimace.

“Technically–” Wally said, as nonchalantly as he could. “Technically yes. I can’t go on missions right now. Or train. As Kid Flash.” He grinned wide, twisting his mouth into ( _ notagrimace- _ ) a toothy smile, forced his eyes to crinkle at the corners. He read something somewhere that said the mark of a real smile was a crinkle on the eyes. He thinks whoever wrote that was probably full of shit, but it’s better safe than sorry. Wally hopes his smile doesn't look too forced.

Linda’s eyes widened. “Wally, what happened?” Hartley placed a hand on Wally's, and Wally took it, staring down into his lap. God, why did his chest feel so tight? He tried to breathe deeply. Breathing deeply was one of those things that everyone said would help calm you down, but, as Wally heaved in his best attempts at deep, even breaths, he decided that whoever said that was full of shit.

“Wally?” Repeated Linda. He couldn’t see her face. He didn’t want to look up.

“I–” Wally stopped. He couldn’t-– he just–

Wally curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his middle, shuddering with the force of holding back tears.

He felt the bed sink down next to him, as Linda sat, placing a gentle hand on his back.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

He could do this, He could–

“I tried to–” He couldn't do this.

Somewhere from the other side of a tunnel, Wally heard Hartley gasp, felt Linda tense as he leaned into her side, desperately craving their comfort.

“God–” Wally tried to choke back a sob and failed miserably, instead burying his face in Linda’s shoulder. ”I’m so s-sorry– I didn't– I felt so– so alone. So  _ tired _ .”

“Did you–” Hartley’s voice was slow, almost tentative. “Did you try to… y’know?”

Wally only gave a soggy laugh in response. Sure, he knows. 

“Wally, did you attempt suicide?” Linda was straight to the point, as always. She cut right to the chase, to the heart of the matter. Wally always took ages to finish his thoughts, and would often, partway through talking, switch topics. He’d probably never finished an essay without getting wildly off topic. Once, in his Modern World History class, he’d decided partway through his final essay that he’d much rather write about viking society pre-Christianity. It was most certainly not a modern historical topic, but with Linda’s help, he’d found a way to connect it back to what they’d been learning, and he’d even gotten an A. Which was a total surprise.

 “I–I know I said I’d t-talk to you, to– to ca-call you if I ever f-felt like… y’know. B-but– I just– I just wasn't th-thinking.” Wally buried his face in Linda’s shirt.”I’m sorry,” Wally mumbled, fists clenching in the soft fabric. There are hands on his back, arms tight around his shoulders, and Wally hopes with all his heart that they can’t feel the way he trembles, full-body shudders that make him feel untethered to the earth.

“Hey,” murmured Linda, rubbing the small of his back with a gentle hand. “Don’t apologize.”

Wally felt Hartley lean against him.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I k-know– but–” A fresh wave of sobbing came over Wally like a tide. Tears streamed down his face freely now, and his breath came out in harsh pants. It was like the dam that had held his emotions back had broken, and all the feelings that had been bottled up deep down inside himself came rushing out as he cried into his friends’ arms.

His shoulders shook, and his head hurt, and his teeth felt like they were ringing. 

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

It took him a moment to slow his breathing enough to speak clearly.

“I feel– Sometimes I feel like it’s inevitable that I’m going to kill myself.” Wally said this quietly, muffled by Linda’s shirt and shoulder, and winced. He didn't want to burden them with this, this terrible, emotional thing that he used to hide so carefully.

“Wally...” Linda started to speak, but seemed to reconsider what she was going to say. Instead, she just hugged him tighter. A second pair of arms encircled him, and strands of bright red hair brushed against his face as Hartley leaned in to comfort him. 

He laughed, impulsively, quietly, tears still spilling down his cheeks. He felt absurd, sitting there with his chest torn open, insides laid out bare, like the entrails of some strange sacrifice, with which Linda and Hartley could tell the future from what they saw.

_ Man, _ that was a gruesome metaphor. Or was it a simile? Wally couldn’t exactly remember what the difference was. His shoulders shook gently, and Wally couldn’t tell whether or not he was laughing or crying. Thinking about homework school while bawling. It was just like him.

He flopped backwards onto his bed, bringing Hartley and Linda back with him. His face still burned and his teeth felt like they were buzzing and his eyes and his face were still damp with saltwater tears, but he managed, somehow, to begin to even his breathing.

“We should probably get started on that homework you brought,” he said with a damp grin, and he heard Hartley’s responding laugh, and felt Linda bump against his side in a familiar, comforting gesture.

 

-

 

Hartley was  _ not _ hiding in the bathroom or anything. He just- he had trouble with dealing with emotions, and today had been very emotional. Besides, he had someone he needed to call.

It took a moment for him to pick up, Hartley tapping his foot impatiently, heart pounding faster with every excruciating moment the line still rung unanswered.

“Hartley,” said a gruff voice from the other end of the line. “Why are you calling me.” It was a statement not a question, and Hartley grimaced.

“Put any plans for the immediate future on hold. Please.” God, Hartley was praying that he agreed.

There was a pause, and then a bark of laughter, almost incredulous.

“Just trust me on this.” Hartley would not plead. He was above that. He was only imagining the note of desperation that slipped into his voice

 “Are you kidding me? Why the hell would we do that?” Something deep in Hartley’s chet flared, and he found himself gritting his teeth.

“Look, _Cold_ ,” he hissed, knuckles white as he gripped the phone. “I am currently standing in Flasher’s bathroom, and I would _really_ appreciate it if you would shut up and agree to put each and every one of our plans on hold for as long as need be. KF–” And there he stopped, pink with rage. Hartley couldn't tell Len what had happened. It was absolutely none of his business, and if he wanted an answer, he’d have to get it from Wally himself.

“KF… what?” Len sounded almost abashed, and Hartley sighed.

“Not my place. Please, trust me. The reds don't need any more stress right now.” He leaned against the wall of the bathroom, tension slowly draining from his frame. Len would listen, and get the others on board, even Evan, the little bastard. The others respected Len, a respect that Hartley, as one of the youngest of the group, would never get.

He heard a sigh over the line. “Sure you can’t tell me what this is all about, or at the very least who Flasher and KF are?” Hartley smiled slightly at that. He was the only Rogue who could say with 100% certainty that he knew the identities of the Gem Cities’ local speedsters, and those identities were the only secret he kept from the others, and they respected that. It was a line even they dreaded crossing. 

But Wally and Hartley had been friends since they were twelve, both awkward outcasts in their eighth grade class, both too-smart, friendless redheads, Wally because of how he had a special class just to help him learn how to pay attention, and how he spaced out regardless, and Hartley because he was a rich, sheltered kid who never really learned how to make friends. The two of them gravitated together, and Linda came into their lives a year later, in eighth grade. She was the new kid, a curiosity, passionate and firey and full of life, and all too cool to be hanging out with them. Somehow, the three of them  just clicked, staying friends all the way through freshman year and right into eleventh grade, as if they’d been friends from childhood.

“Goodbye Len,” he murmured fondly, thinking of the friendship they’d built over the years.

“See ya soon, kid.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so i have some wips and i wanna yell abt them. listen up.
> 
> there's a hartley/wally/evan fic that i am writing for literally no one but myself, because that's what i want to see and no one else shares my... interesting evan characterization. he's a little bastard and i love him SO MUCH. (edit: [this got posted!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19742107))
> 
> the next installment of [pray you love, remember](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1188194) is coming eventually. you may ask: "flash! will it be thematically and stylistically similar to the first to installments of pray you love, remember?" and my answer will be "hopefully!" because i have not started writing it yet and so far it is just a blatant excuse to make lord batman and jlu!wally kiss that exists only in my brain. (edit: i s2g i will make this happen)
> 
> second to last, there is my smattering of various marvel fics. those have been in my drafts for far too long and they are unlikely to leave my drafts :! (edit: past me was right)
> 
> (i did this in order of likely time til posting and i am disappointed in myself that the one i have written nothing for is second)

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me, i'm @flash-and-substance on tumblr. i'll often post updates on the progress of both this and other fics, as well as art!


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